Reading under a tree

This morning was a lovely one: breezy with sun and fresh Appalachian air, cool enough to pull weeds and plant annuals without breaking a sweat. Leaves rustled, bees buzzed happily from flower to flower.

When I watered in the new bright yellow zinnias, scraping dirt from beneath my fingernails while I held the hose and thought about what I’d eat for lunch, a pair of small brown-orange butterflies flitted round each other in that twirling butterfly dance they do.

I looked over at the shade beneath the dogwood tree and thought, I want to sit there and read my book.

So here I am. Flowers bloom all around me, a soft yellow butterfly drinks from a purple salvia, grasshoppers chirp and birds trill, leaves quiver and shake, the sound of a far off lawn mower drifts over the hills, and the breeze makes a low whooooo sound across my ears. 

It’s going to be a good night for sailing.

I am enjoying blogging from my phone — it’s so immediate! I can publish from anywhere, including the shade of the dogwood tree in our front yard.